


My Mother's Tongue

by ModSoul



Series: Between the Lines [11]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Asexual Oswald Cobblepot, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Season/Series 05 Finale, References to bullying, Teenage Oswald, conversation over breakfast, fictional tumblr aks, gotham is real, immigrant parent, real gothamite explaining fictional events
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22116205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModSoul/pseuds/ModSoul
Summary: Since hearing Oswald talk in his mother's tongue after his eye surgery Ed had been curious as to what other languages he actually spoke.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: Between the Lines [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1588390
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a larger series I still have to write.  
> What you need to know:  
> \- Every part of this ask-stories consists of three parts: The Tumblr-post, the flashback to what really happened, Ed's and/or Os' reaction to the post/memory.  
> \- They started dating after Reunification, by the time the questions are asked they have been married for about a decade.  
> \- The Flash went back in time with files upon files on the DC characters & inspired the comic universe, while Batman made sure that any information regarding it would not appear in Gotham, meaning: The comics, movies and shows exist in the world, while the Rogues are non the wiser.  
> \- When Penguin & Riddler figured this out they made someone write their version which in turn was used as basis for the show Gotham.  
> \- After they made a spectacular appearance at a Comic Con, revealing themselves to be real, people started questioning what is real and what is fictional.  
> \- A Tumblr savy Gothamite ended up answering those questions(, as Batmans information block had been cleared after Penguin guilt tripped him into doing so).  
> \- All asks are stand alone - if they refer to things happening in other Fics, those will be linked(, once I publish them).  
> \- The above mentioned things will become their own Fics, including the actual introduction to the Tumblr-user in the final chapter of [Gotham Conspiracy](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26163706).
> 
> The Flashback in chapter 1 can be read as a direct continuation of the one in [Melancholia](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22067962).

YesILiveInTHEGotham **Anonymous** asked:Have you ever heard Penguin speak anything but English? If his mom was Hungarian like in the show, he surely has picked up a thing or two?  I haven't personally heard him do so, but it is pretty much common knowledge that if you're an immigrant or immigrant's child and barely speak English that he doesn't hesitate to help you pay for language courses or introduce you to people willing to teach you.  There is also this one story about this, I believe he was Russian, boy that got lost and ended up crossing paths with one of Penguin's men. The boy was brought to the Lounge and they figured out what happened. When his men brought the parents it's said that the boy was fast asleep while Penguin was singing an Hungarian lullaby to him. (And he keeps saying he hates kids...) Oh and there is the old rumor that he was "speaking in tongues" after his eye surgery. No one ever elaborated on what actually happened, so I'm guessing he was either just talking delirious gibberish or maybe actually Hungarian.  Who knows, maybe the most eloquent talker in Gotham isn't even a native speaker.  
Crazier things have happened.  P.S. Before anyone even thinks about asking/suggesting it: Please read the FAQs, especially #1 - Why I will not personally relay any of your questions to Penguin.  #Real Gothamite Talking#Gotham is real #language#Penguin and Riddler are married 101.010 notes 

~~~

Oswald sat at the table watching Ed stir the batter. "Ed, can I ask you something?"  
His tone sounded much lighter, than the day before and Ed was relieved to hear it.  
"Of course," he agreed turning around, only to see Oswald trying not to smile.  
"Are you smearing your face with whatever your cooking on purpose or does that just happen?"  
Ed resisted the urge to wipe his face. "Maybe I want you to use that silver tongue of yours to clean it off," Ed teased leaning across the table.  
"Hmm, fair point." Oswald reached out a hand and wiped off the batter from Ed's cheek with his thumb and tasted it. "Not bad."  
In a daring move Ed took one of his smudged fingers and smeared a blotch on Oswald's nose. The other wrinkled his face to get a better look, though he stopped, when his monocle nearly fell off. "I take it, you now want to use yours?" He huffed, turning towards Ed.  
"Hmm, no, I'll try something different." With this Ed rounded the table and scrapped the batter off with his teeth, feeling Oswald's gaze on him while he did so. A shudder went through his partner and Ed could not help himself to end his actions by kissing him. When they broke apart he could see the other's love clearly before him. Declaring their feelings for each other was second nature by now, so they did before Ed returned to preparing their breakfast.

“Have I ever told you about that time I was caught, well, red-handed with my hand in a corpse?” Ed spun around after a while, waving the wooden spoon, he was still holding in his hand.  
“No, I believe you have not,” the other put his chin on his folded hands, a gesture Ed was prone to do himself.  
“Well,” he sat down for a moment. “It was, when I was still in forensics when we received the bodies that Mr. Crane senior used for his version of the fear toxin.” He paused when he saw the shudder that ran through Oswald, at the mention of Scarecrow’s signature weapon. Even after a decade it was still a sore spot for him, Ed knew that. Tapping the spoon to the table he drew Oswald’s attention away from his memories and back to the story. They shared a small smile before Ed continued. “With the ME being as incompetent as he was, I took a look at the latest body and had just discovered that something was indeed missing when Captain Essen and the ME came to stop me and in my blunder I did this,” Ed hit his hand against his forehead, smearing batter against it like he had the blood so long ago, “without remembering that my hand was still bloody.”  
Oswald broke into hearty laughter. At first he had tried to hide it by covering his mouth, but then he could not hold it in any more. Hand’s over his belly, tears shining in his eyes he leaned against the back of the chair. Ed loved seeing him like that and could not help joining in the laughter.  
“You know, I can truly see you doing just that!” Oswald commented when he had calmed down again.

Not long after the table was full with supplies for their breakfast. A pile of pancakes, a can with syrup and several bowls with fresh fruit, jam, apple sauce and cream. Two steaming cups of herbal tea complementing the sweet ensemble.  
“This looks and smells delicious, Ed,” Oswald complimented, giving him a warm smile.  
“Thank you and _Bon Appétit_.”  
“ _Guten Appetit_ , my dear,” Oswald replied, spearing a pancake with his fork.  
“That was German, wasn’t it?” Ed realized, halting his cup halfway to his mouth.  
“Indeed it was,” Oswald confirmed, not looking at him.  
“I always wondered-” Ed started only to be smugly interrupted with “How many languages I can speak?”  
“Yes.” Now it was Ed’s turn to put his chin on his folded hands. “So?”  
“Well, there is obviously English,” Oswald started and Ed knew he would be dragging this out to make it more fun, so he quipped: “And Hungarian. I still remember how you confused the poor nurses after you woke up from your eye surgery.”  
“Hahaha, yes, I remember, even if I did not realise my mishap at the time.” Oswald chuckled, but Ed could see the embarrassment in his features. The tinge of color, the slightly averted gaze.  
Being so vulnerable and exhausted that he did not manage to translate his words but instead reverted back to his mother’s tongue was certainly something the other did not like being reminded of. Ed felt sorry for causing this discomfort, so he tried to cheer his partner up instead: “To be honest, until that moment I did not even consider you to be speaking anything else than English. You’re so eloquent in your usage of the language. That always fascinated me.”  
“Well, thank you, I have worked hard for this,” Oswald accepted. He picked up the strawberry jam and spread it on his pancake before he continued. “I barely knew any English when I started school and I still went by my mother’s name. Oswald Kapelput,” he declared waving his hand, like he was writing in the air. “It took me about a week to realize that they were making fun of me because I didn’t speak their language, exploiting the fact even to talk badly about me while I was standing right beside them. So, I decided to do something about it and spent hours in the library reading every book available and even talked my mother into watching old movies with me. By the end of it I knew most of them by heart, being able to quote them word for word.” While he talked he stacked another pancake on the first, added another layer of a different jam and was now reaching for a third pancake. “Though, in the end they kept mocking me because as a result of my studies I sounded antiquated and in their opinion ridiculous.”  
“I love the way you talk,” Ed confessed and handed him the cream, his experience telling him that this was what the other would use to top off his construction.  
“Thank you.” Ed knew this was not just about the topping. “Your mother also taught you German, I take it? Hungary was after all ruled by Austrians for several decades and they use a variation of the German language.”  
“True, she used to switch between Hungarian, German and English at times, especially if she had been wronged. So, I picked up things here and there.” The smile on his face grew melancholic again, but then he laughed. "You know, she used to call me _Liebchen_ and while I was in Blackgate I met a German inmate that was utterly befuddled by this."  
"Why?" Ed needlessly asked. He knew Oswald would continue regardless of this, but he just had to do it.  
"Apparently the usage was a mistranslation on my mother's or maybe my grandparent's part. While it is indeed the translation for darling or sweetheart it is meant in the literal sense of those words." Instead of explaining this further he sliced into his pancake formation. Ed contemplated his words trying to understand them, then it clicked. "Oh, you mean she-"  
"Yes, she basically called me her mistress," Oswald finished his thought with a guffaw. "Imagine my surprise when the inmate had explained that to me."  
"Oh dear." Ed joined into the laughter.

“What about Russian?” Ed continued guessing after they had eaten in silence for a moment, his mind drifting to their maid.  
“Mostly curse – or as my mother used to say ‘bad’ - words and the necessities,” Oswald explained, a small smile on his lips that he always had, when reminiscing about his past. “You know, yes, no, good day, please, thank you, kill, dead, murder, steal,” he elaborated and Ed had to chuckle again.  
It was just what he expected from an overprotective mother as the late Miss Kapelput had been.  
“It did come in handy working for Fish or rather against her, but I’m still incapable of holding a normal conversation with Olga.” Oswald quieted for a while, focusing on his meal and most likely lost in thought.  
“It’s similar with my knowledge of Dutch. I can read it, but I have never heard it spoken, hence I would not be able to pronounce it properly.”  
At this point Ed had expected a topic change, but was surprised yet again. “Dutch? W-” He started, but Oswald wave a hand to indicate their surroundings. “Right. 'Van' can be either a nobiliary particle or a toponomic indicating the person is of Dutch decent.”  
“Exactly.” Oswald nodded, “nevertheless, while I learned it to study the scriptures and diaries of my forefathers I could never make out which one it was. Though, I have discovered some very interesting things.”  
“You have?” This was, why life with Oswald was never boring, there was always another secret hidden underneath a mystery.  
“Yes, did you know that the Van Dahls were the main supplier for several speakeasies during the prohibition era? They used their shipments of fabric to hide the booze they were smuggling,” the other explained with a satisfied smirk. “Well, and that there is a tunnel system connecting this very mansion with a few other estates and the river. It most likely still holds a few of those crates,” he added, fully knowing Ed would have to start exploring this.

~~~

Ed snickered, looking over at his husband who was reading an old book he had picked up from the mansion's vast library.  
“What is it, Ed?” Oswald asked looking at him over the rims of his reading glasses.  
Ed put his phone and glasses away and scooted over to wrap his arms around him. “Remember when we explored the tunnel system?” He asked nuzzling into the other’s shoulder.  
“And Martin shocking us by already knowing where everything was? Yes, yes I do.” Oswald chuckled, placing a bookmark between the pages and putting it away, before doing the same with his glasses. He turned to face Ed and hugged him as well. “Is that what the latest question was about?”  
“Nem, but we did that shortly after,” Ed replied, kissing his husband on the nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the things Gotham could have done to improve what they already had, was using Gertrud's origin to be continued in Oswald's story line. Unfortunately, we never got to see how growing up with a woman who's English was supposed to be mediocre at best affected him and made him strive to be such an eloquent talker...
> 
> Oh, and the fact that they mistranslated sweetheart into basically "mistress", did not improve this at all ... _Liebling_ would have been a safer choice.
> 
> Curiously, the Hungarian word for "no" was just in a magazine crosswords the other day, which as it turns out is just one of the possible translations. "Nem" being, if I understood the [dictionary](http://www.hungarianreference.com/Misc_Grammar/negatives-nem-ne-sem-se.aspx) correctly, the one that would be used in this context. No guarantee though, I've never learned the language, unlike German.


	2. Don't talk to me like that!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teen!Oswald has an argument with his mum.

YesILiveInTHEGotham **Anonymous** asked:So a follow up to the question about Penguin's language skills: In the scene where Gertrud dies, she talk to each other in English. Shouldn't they be using Hungarian instead?  Dude, how am I supposed to know whether that was an artistic license-thing or what actually happened? That was nearly 30 years ago, I wasn't even born then!  #Real Gothamite Talking#Gotham is real #language#Penguin and Riddler are married 42 notes 

~~~

Today had been a particularly annoying day in school. This numbnuts just would not leave him alone. Oswald tossed his backpack on the floor with a huff.  
" _Sweetheart, is that you?_ " His mother called out to him from the tiny kitchen stashed away in the corner of their apartment.  
"Yes, mother," he answered in English still trying to get her to learn the language as well. He knew she could understand him, but she still refused to use it regularly.  
Coming towards him in a flurry of robes she hugged him tightly. Oswald felt all the stress from the day melt into the embrace.  
With a kiss to his forehead she let go and turned away. " _I'm making dinner, will you help me after you finished your homework?_ "  
"Mother, please do try to use English!" He pleaded for the umpteenth time, tossing his shoes to the side.  
" _You can understand me perfectly. I don't need it_ ," she protested with a shrug of her shoulders.  
Oswald groaned and flopped onto the creaking couch. "Mother, we live in America. It is essential that we also speak the language. Things are so much easier if people think you're one of them."  
" _Is that what you've been trying to do? Learning all those fancy words just to still get hurt by all those bullies. If that is what learning this silly language means, then I don't want it._ "  
"That's enough!" Oswald yelled out, hitting the cushion beside him, releasing a dust cloud. In a swift move Oswald had turned around to kneel on the couch and face her. How could she be so stubborn? How could she not see, that holding onto the old ways brought them more trouble than good? "If you don't want to speak the language for your own good, then I'll give you an incentive: Unless you use English, I wont talk to you any more!" It was a low blow and he could see it by the devastated look on her face. But god, it was necessary.  
" _I don't understand_."  
Her voice was not more than a whisper, so full of hurt that it nearly broke Oswald's resolve. But he could not back down. At the rate she was getting familiar with the language he would be an adult by the time she would be able to introduce herself.  
" _I will not answer you, if you don't talk English to me_ ," he repeated in his mother's tongue to make sure, she definitely could not mistranslate his words.  
" _You can't do this to your mother!_ " She tried to change his mind.  
"I can and I will!" He countered, fully aware that he had just broken his own rule.

~~~

"Oswald? Oswald?" Ed's voice took him out of his reverie.  
"I'm sorry, I was just ..." Oswald broke off shaking his head free of the memories still plaguing his mind and his heart. He felt Ed's arms enclose him from behind and he leant back into the touch.

"I was about fifteen when we had the argument. It was one of our only fights," Oswald eventually revealed, after they had sat in silence for a while. The phone lay forgotten on the table beside them and Ed properly sat on the couch behind him, his arms and legs still wrapped around Oswald. "She was so adamant about not using English at home that I forced her to do so," Oswald continued, feeling the tears well up again. "I threatened to never talk to her again unless she used it - I broke her heart, but it worked." He held onto Ed's hands to feel grounded, to not let the grief sweep him away. "Even when she-" He tried but his voice failed him. "When she lay in my arms-" A hiccup escaped him and Ed held onto him more tightly. "I- I hadn't even thought-"  
"You don't have to say it," Ed offered, softly kissing the top of his head.  
Oswald only nodded, turning in his husband's arms and let the grief and sorrow wash over him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't plan on adding a second chapter to this, but I think this rounds the discussion quite nicely.


End file.
